


Subtly Requited

by 13starbuck42



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Cancer Arc, Episode: s05e01 Redux I, Episode: s05e02 Redux II, F/M, Feels, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 15:42:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13767282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/13starbuck42/pseuds/13starbuck42
Summary: I caught a case of feels and this happened.  Written for the tumblr prompt: first time they went grocery shopping.





	Subtly Requited

Sunflower seeds, the weird granola with flax and dried cranberries, coffee.

He always stocks up before he meets her at the airport or picks her up in the rental car.  Sometimes, if the case is particularly gruesome, he’ll grab a couple donuts, the kind with frosting and sprinkles, as a sort of buffer; a reminder that not everything is bad.

But this time, as he pushes the cart up and down the narrow aisles of the grocery store, one wobbly wheel squeaking in protest, it is Scully who picks out the donuts.  And the granola, the weird kind with flax and dried cranberries, because she is a creature of habit.  She chooses fresh fruit; apples, a bunch of bananas, grapefruit, strawberries.  Next, a bag of carrots, a plastic container of salad greens, and a balsamic vinaigrette.  Then a package of chicken breasts and a dozen eggs.  Coffee, of course - whole beans that she’ll have to grind at home.  Oatmeal and brown rice, soy milk and yogurt, and a pricey little wedge of white Stilton.  She fills the cart with her favorite things, the things she needs and the things she wants.

They unload her plunder onto the dusty conveyor belt at the checkout and Scully makes pleasant conversation with the cashier.  He stays quiet and wonders how she does it.

She has always been “the healthy one,” picking at a salad while he scarfs a burger (though she does steal his fries, and the thought makes him smile).  She likes the weird granola and tofutti rice dreamsicles and lately she’s been researching bee pollen, which he never even knew was edible.  But this is different, he thinks.

Her cancer is in remission, and she is pale and frail and tired but here she is, making small talk with a stranger, and the smile on her face is genuine.  This shopping trip, this purchase, isn’t about food.  It is about fuel.  It is about medicine and healing and restoration.  It is meant to make her strong again, to make her whole, to put the lovely blush back on her cheeks.  She is not meant to be pale or frail or tired; she is none of those things to him.

As they push the cart through the parking lot, he fights tears, battles joy and anguish; when she notices he blames it on the wind and presses his hand to the small of her back to remind himself that she is real.  She is alive.  She reaches in the waxy bakery bag for a donut with frosting and sprinkles, because not everything is bad.

He carries the bags for her, making three trips to bring them inside.  Not because she can’t, but because he can and because he wants to.  He wants to do everything for her; he always has, but now more than ever, he needs to.  He’s not sure if this is for her benefit or to satiate his own selfishness, but it doesn’t matter because he feels like something was missing and he’s finally got it back.

He begins to unpack her groceries, hoping he’s put the oatmeal in the right cupboard, the milk on the proper shelf.  He is determined not to miss a single chance to help her, to do things for her, to protect her.  He loves her, he realizes, as he’s closing the door of her refrigerator.  Maybe he’s known it all along, but it is vivid and urgent now; imperative that he prove it to her.  

He reaches for the empty paper grocery bag and his head tilts slightly with wonder, when he discovers it is not empty.  A smile whispers on his lips as he withdraws the final item.

Sunflower seeds.

 


End file.
